Timothy Treadwell’s life is about as far from the Malibu stereotype as can be imagined. On Friday, the 36-year old beach resident, as he has done every spring for the past 12 years, will fly into one of the most remote regions of Alaska where he will live alone until autumn. While there, he studies and photographs wild animals in their natural habitat-mostly grizzly bears-as well as protecting them from human predators. Then he takes those observations and images on the road, delivering more than 100 lectures a year on wildlife ethics and environmental preservation to clubs and universities, but especially to some 10,000 children.
Not surprisingly, media has had a grand time glamorizing Treadwell’s adventures in the wilderness (he’s appeared on David Letterman’s “Late Show” twice). Nevertheless, it’s a highly dangerous business and he knows it. Two weeks ago, during a fundraiser for the 2003 expedition, a supporter, anxious to learn more about his wilderness experiences, suggested they meet on his return. Treadwell’s reply was hardly one she expected: “That’s fine,” the buff, blond, near-6-footer said, “… if I get back.”
He wasn’t just being dramatic. With the closest human settlement 100 miles away, the slightest accident or infection can be fatal. Two years ago, Treadwell contracted giardiasis, a parasitic disease commonly known as Beaver Fever, from drinking river water into which an infected animal probably defecated. After the symptoms appeared (high fevers, diarrhea), he called for help on his satellite phone, but all planes were grounded-it was Sept. 11. When the medication was finally airdropped to him, Treadwell was hallucinating and only able to crawl.
“It was days before I felt better,” he recalls, “and months before I regained my health.”
On another occasion when he was exploring an area he calls the “Grizzly Maze” where 30 to 60 enormous bears are concentrated within a few square miles of jungle-like foliage, jagged cliffs and swift glacial rivers, Treadwell was blown off a cliff.
“It was like a movie,” he recalls. “There was a root on the edge, I grabbed it and it held. Had I fallen, it was 50 feet down to a boulder field; I would have been dead immediately, or died slowly.”
Once, when crawling through the tunnel-like passages the bears create in the foliage of the Maze, he suddenly came across a female grizzly and her three newborn cubs.
“I saw fangs and claws recoiling as if to strike (a grizzly can easily kill a human with one swipe),” he says. “I spoke nicely, and saw it’s ‘Aunt Melissa,’ one of the toughest bears in the Maze. She laid back down; I’d known her for years and she had recognized me.”
In fact, besides research and photography, a significant amount of Treadwell’s wilderness time is spent reacquainting himself with the animals, most of which, like Aunt Melissa, he has named. One, Timmy the Fox, actually seeks out Treadwell on his annual visits, and follows him on his daily patrols like a pet dog.
Originally motivated to seek his unusual career through a desire to add direction and meaning to his life, Treadwell accepts the danger of living intimately (and weaponless) with wild grizzlies as secondary to the good he can accomplish. Many agree, including superstar Leonardo DiCaprio, a major supporter of the nonprofit Grizzly People foundation.
DiCaprio explained to The Malibu Times: “I am a strong advocate of Timothy Treadwell because he risks his life to protect animals and he is reaching the next generation by teaching children how to preserve the planet.”
The support of commercial sponsors is also crucial. Treadwell’s include Minolta (cameras), Mountain Hardware (tents and sleeping bags), Patagonia (clothes and financial support), Tamrac (bags) and Garmont (shoes).
Since grizzlies can smell food for miles, food and the eating of it are serious issues. Ramen soups and macaroni and cheese (“my most serious meal”) are Treadwell’s staples; so are peanut butter and jelly. He never fishes despite the vast quantities of salmon in the area’s rivers.
“Salmon is the bears’ primary food source,” he says, “and I don’t compete with that. If I smell of fish, they’re going to be attracted to me.”
Not surprisingly, Treadwell loses up to 40 pounds from his normal 175-pound weight during the expedition.
“I’m going in 10 to 15 pounds lighter this year, and am a little worried,” he says.
In the wilderness, he also occupies himself with writing (one of the newest projects is a children’s book, “King of the North,” about Timmy the Fox and his family), and working on a sequel to his Discovery Channel series, “The Grizzly Diaries.” He also reads a lot.
“People would probably guess that I focus on philosophy and subjects like that,” he laughs. “But what I read is Vanity Fair. Sometimes I read the stories to the animals.”
Treadwell does admit that toward the end of his stay, the lonely life, encroaching darkness and seemingly endless storms begin to get to him, and he begins talking to the animals themselves in huffs and yips.
“What I explain to children in my lectures,” he says, “is that the best fox or the best bear is the one that learns best from their mothers (for bears) or their mothers and fathers (for foxes). It’s their university, and the more education they get, the greater their success in life. So I teach children to be good family members, and to get as high an education as possible. Then, with that education, whatever it might be, try to do good things for the planet.”
Treadwell’s Grizzly People foundation, currently raising funds to support Expedition 2003, can be reached at 310.456.6404.